


Hungry Ghosts

by juliesioux



Series: Erotic and Joyous [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Love, Shower Sex, Trauma, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 01:37:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5397977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliesioux/pseuds/juliesioux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a missing scene between Oliver rescuing Felicity, Diggle, and Thea from Darhk. It takes place just before the tree lighting/proposal scene.</p><p>How do they reconnect to each other best when the terror of the last day has subsided?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hungry Ghosts

The drive home was in relative silence.

Felicity was introspective, pensive, and unusually quiet but she had yet to let go of his hand. Their physical connection in the present kept her from spiralling into the panic and fear of the past few hours. Oliver traced small circles with his thumb over her knuckles. He sometimes forgot just how small her hands were until he held them.

Once in the loft, and he knows they are safe, he pulls her into a long, tight embrace and buries his face in the small space between her neck and shoulder. His arms go around her with ease and his hands cover the expanse of her back and all he can see in his mind’s eye is the terror in her eyes as the Ghosts locked her in the chamber with Diggle and Thea.

“I need to shower,” she sighs a little wearily into his chest.

“Ok, you go on up. I’ll make you some tea.”

“Um, Oliver? You kinda need to let me go,” she laughed.

Reluctantly, but not before pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead, he releases his grip on her and watches as she heads up the stairs.

It wasn’t that he was afraid for her in that moment, he was afraid of himself. Afraid of the hungry ghosts in his head, the ones that continued to clamour and wail and twist his ideas of who he was a man around and around until he didn’t recognize the face he saw in the mirror.

Left alone, like now, they roared.

They howled and few through his mind like whirlwinds of fire and hate.

He chased himself out of the room and up the stairs to their bedroom and the raging voices ceased. This space was a sanctuary where they were not allowed to exist. He loved this room, their bed, the way the light was always so muted but warm and welcoming.

He spotted her dress, a small pile of silky red, flung into a corner of the room. Like she had desired nothing more than to be rid of it and that stirred a deep sadness in him. He flashed back to when he saw her come down the stairs in that dress, the way her legs looked in that dress, the way she moved in that dress.

The things he had wanted to do to her in that dress.

And now it was a reminder about all the horrors they withstood in such a short period of time. Darhk almost won. He almost took her from him forever while she was wearing that dress.

With a small shake of his head, Oliver dislodged himself from that memory and thought about the need for a shower himself. He wanted nothing more than to wash away the horror of Darhk.

The panic that had almost engulfed him earlier threatened to bubble back up, so he did the only thing he could think of to centre himself - he went in search of Felicity.

He could just barely see her through the fog created by the steamy shower she was having. When her form emerged, his heart almost broke as she was standing stock still in the centre of the shower with the face in her hands. Her small shoulders were shaking as she cried silently in the steady stream of hot water that was washing over her.

She was so tiny, he marvelled, but her strength would always be more than he could withstand. 

Quietly, he stripped out of his clothes and joined her.

“Hey,” he said softly, “come here.”

Without a word, she turned immediately into him and held on for dear life. He silently fell to pieces as he felt her body shake in what was mental and emotional agony. He could feel her nails digging into the not so tender flesh of his back and felt her muffled sobs as they reverberated throughout his body.

“I can’t promise that danger won’t touch our lives again, and I know you will let me know when you think you need protection, but I love you and that automatically means I want to protect you. I don’t know how to not want that,” he murmured into her ear.

Her breathing was beginning to even out, and her sobs had stopped, but her grip on his body remained intense.

“I know, Oliver, I know. Right now, you can be the boss of me,” she said, leaning back her head to look up at him with red rimmed eyes, “even though I must look awful. I am such an ugly crier.”

Oliver laughed, feeling buoyed by her returning sense of humour, and leaned down in search of her lips.

The kiss was gentle at first. Almost chaste. Until her grip loosened on his back and her hands began to move, tracing shapes and chasing the water as it ran in rivers through the seams of his scars.

There was something about the way she did that, the way she used her fingers to dive into the narrow spaces and coax his nerve endings back to life.

It drove him wild.

As she sought a reaction from his skin, he traced the shape of her lips with his tongue until she opened up for him and allowed him to explore the velvety shape of her mouth.

She moaned softly into him and all the adrenaline of the past 12 hours raced through his body. He had almost lost her to the machinations of an evil, evil man. His last image of her would have been watching as she used her last breath to tell him that she loved him. 

He would have watched her die while comforting him.

He felt her rake her nails across the tender flesh of his lower back and every nerve ending in his body went haywire. All he could think about was how close he came to losing her forever, all he could feel was her body pressed against his and how small but mighty she truly was.

She began to claw at him, pushing him into that delicate, cloudy space of arousal and desire. Her tears had stopped but that intense emotional need was replaced by something else, something both their bodies were responding to.

There were nights that seemed to last forever, where they took turns exploring, mapping, memorizing and worshipping each other’s bodies. He knew that there was a small spot on the inside of her right thigh that when gently scratched, would cause her breath to catch. He remembered how her toes curled when he would cup her breasts in his hands or how she would breathe his name like a caress when he was buried deep inside her.

But then there were nights like this, where intimacy was sacrificed for something more primal, as they raced to reconnect to each other in the most profound way possible.

Couching only slightly, Oliver slid his hands down her body in order to pick her up. She needed no direction and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. 

“Now, Oliver,” her voice was husky in his ear, “now.”

Leaning her back against the shower wall, he anchored her so that he could enter her in one, smooth satiny push that took both of their breath away. He knew that he had very little restraint left in him and that this would end quickly for him if she kept grinding against him.

One look at her and he knew the same was true for her and that propelled him to set a fast, almost staccato rhythm to how he was making love to her. The heat of her body wrapped around his throbbing cock was too much and he felt himself flying towards her, like a kite twisting in a strong wind.

“...oh God…Oliver…” she gasped as her body flexed towards him and then she joined him in the whirlwind. 

He felt her body tighten around him, her hands in his hair, her legs pulling her into him as he continued to thrust into her.

She clung to him, urging him to his own release with undulating motions of her hips and quiet words of love and lust mingling with the primal grunts he was making as he lost himself in the essence of her.

She laid a gentle kiss above his heart and with that he came, hot and alive, with her name on his lips and taste on his tongue.

It was then that the pain he had been keeping at bay since they escaped Darhk came pouring out of him and he wept with his face buried in her hair.

Felicity’s bones rattled as his sobs washed over and through her. When Oliver cried, it was like an earthquake under her feet. It shook her world and there was nothing she could do to comfort him except hold him and tell him over and over that she was here, that she was ok, that she loved him.

She dried him off, walked him back to their bed and wrapped herself around him until the storm passed. The night’s festivities were hours away still, they had time to ride this out and find a space of peace and joy before going.

This time, she took her time with him. She let his tears dry, let the earth settle beneath them and the aftershocks tremble through her, before showing him the wonders his love had given her. How, of all the places in the world she could be, none of them mattered if he wasn’t with her.


End file.
